Hell's Angel

Chapter One

Beep! Beep! Beep! I reached my hand from underneath my pillow and slammed it on the alarm clock, rattling the whole night stand with the amount of force I used. The annoying alarm sounded off one last beep and stayed quiet, though I knew it would begin its’ shrilling once more in five minutes. Groaning, I put my hand back over my face to cover my eyes from the sunlight streaming in past the curtains, the bright light creeping its’ way up to my face. My thoughts were still in a whirl as they had been for the past three months; that damned dream was going to be the end of me. I never got enough sleep in the past and now, add that dream to the mixture and I was getting even less sleep than before.

Sighing, I tried to think about it, like I usually did every morning; it was like trying to piece together a jigsaw puzzle without all of the pieces. The dream just didn’t make any sense to me even though it kept repeating itself over and over again. Although, over the past few weeks, little details were changing; three weeks ago, it was just an empty field, two weeks ago the bodies came, and one week ago started the horrific scene that I saw today.  It wasn’t that I was scared of it or what it could possibly mean; it was just damn irritating.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Startled out of my thinking, I sat straight up and looked around, my eyes settling on the source of the annoying noise. I glared at the little devil, its’ glowing red eyes blinking 7:25 a.m. now. More than slightly irritated now, (and maybe a bit crabby) I hit the alarm clock with such vicious force that it broke. Not like breaking-the-snooze-button type broken but, broken, as in smashed to pieces. The beeping slowly died off and I grinned with self-satisfaction that I had conquered the evil demon. Granted, it was only a cheap, digital alarm clock but, still, it had been damn irritating to say in the least.

Rolling my eyes at the pathetic sight, I quickly swiped the broken clock and its’ pieces into the garbage can tucked underneath the night stand. Once it was cleaned up, I settled back in bed and tried to resume sleeping. Unfortunately, my reprieve was short-lived when I heard a shrill voice yelling to my room,

“Nyx! Nyx! Get down here or you will be late for class!”

I guess it would probably be a good idea to get up, I sadly thought. I had class starting in 40 minutes and it being my sophomore year in college with only one more month to go, I figured being late would probably not be a good idea. I groaned inwardly, knowing that time was up and I threw back the covers.

Planting my feet on the bare wooden floor, I slowly rose from my dark red bed and shuffled to the bathroom. I turned on the lights as I walked past and the room dimly lit up, illuminating the red walls of my small room. Entering my bathroom, I turned on the fluorescent lights and immediately regretted my decision. Bright light flooded the room and I threw up my hands to protect my eyes, debating whether I should just turn them off again. Sighing, I decided that I had wasted enough time lying in the bed and I just got to work. Did my business, took a quick, hot shower, brushed my teeth, and strolled back into my room, all within the short time of ten minutes.

I started over to my bureau, quickly glancing to see if my white curtains remained closed and, finding them closed, walked over. Opening the top draw, I grabbed a black, V-neck t-shirt and grabbed a pair of faded skinny jeans in the bottom. Even though it was May, the weather was still quite chilly out here in the small town of Temple, Maine. I didn’t mind the cold though; it was actually quite nice compared to the heat. I pulled on my brown lace-up boots and stood in my bathroom, looking into the floor-length mirror, making sure I at least looked presentable.

Pale, green eyes flecked with silver met my gaze, with dark eyelashes to bring out the color even more. Long, dark red hair tumbled past my shoulders and the ends were almost black. No, I didn’t dye them nor did anything to my; apparently, I’m just weird like that. My five foot three fair 20 year old self stared back at me; my frame was tiny but was pretty well built. I could run for miles, which I did quite frequently, and never be winded. I was an interesting combination, I was told.